


with stars littering their skin

by Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 02:27:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8779528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness/pseuds/Cap_Sweet_And_Salty_Sadness
Summary: The Inner Circle begins to act weird around Anders after Hawke sees him naked, which would be insulting if it wasn't for his interest in the beauty marks on his ribs.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt: "from the Soulmate AU list "the one where you get matching marks/symbols/tattoos" and, if I can suggest something more specific, everyone in the Inner Circle sees the matching marks and knows before they do. Pairing your choice, to make up for the extra request."

The quest on the Wounded Coast had gone well, or well enough by Anders’ standards. No big injury, if you forgot Hawke’s attempt at saving Isabela from no danger and ending up having a dagger in his side. His armor had taken most of the impact, but Anders still had scolded him good for that stupid stunt. Isabela didn’t need any saving, but she still latched herself unto Hawke as soon as they established camp.

“My hero! Saving me from those bandits.”

“Bandits you threw yourself at in the first place,” Fenris added with a smirk. He’d found his flask in his bag and was already drinking from it. They all exchanged a look, and Anders scoffed. Their relationship wasn’t much of a secret, and he envied them at times. To find someone he could entirely trust, let alone two, was a dream that would remain a dream for him. No, Anders couldn’t afford to bear his thoughts and worries to a lover, not when so many things were at stake.

He decided he had enough of the others’ antics, so he rose, sweeping dirt from his robes even though it was a waste. His robes were already bloodied and ripped from today’s fights.

“I’m going to wash myself.” Their camp was established close to the sea, which allowed them to at least enjoy sleeping in a clean state once they accomplished their deeds of the moment. Usually these resolved around killing baddies and saving goodies of some time.

Anders sighed as he stripped himself naked, piling everything on a rock so it wouldn’t gather sand. He took his soap and walked into the water, cursing under his breath at the cold temperature. It was a warm evening, the sun giving its last rays over the horizon, yet the water was going to freeze his balls off. He cast a fire spell and warmed up the water until it was to his liking, which meant almost too hot. There was no stream and he only needed to keep a steady flow of warmth as he bathed. He was simply soaking, sharing mindless thoughts with Justice when someone joined in, splashing water everywhere.

Of course it was Hawke, his tempting body right in his face.

“Today was productive,” he said, pushing his long dark hair away from his face. Anders continued to float on his back as they chatted. He was getting along fine with Hawke, in fact he considered him one of the only friends he ever had. Once he got past his little crush, Anders realized he was in much more need of a friend than a lover. Now three years later, with Hawke romantically involved with Isabela and Fenris, Anders cherished their friendship.

“Is my relationship with Isabela and Fenris bothering you?” Hawke’s question startled Anders, and he fumbled in the water before he came back to the surface. The water wasn’t deep where they were, and he was able to get back his footing, but now his chest was getting cold.

“Why would it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never seen you with, you know, anyone.”

“Well, I had Karl before, but that was years ago…” Anders shrugged. “I have other things to think about, more important things at hand.”

Hawke snorted. “I’ve had a look at your manifesto, Anders, what with the way you leave copies of it in every creak of my mansion-…” He suddenly stopped speaking, intently frowning at his chest, and Anders became self-conscious.

“Well Hawke, it only took you three years to succumb to my charms.”

“Your moles, here…” Hawke pointed at a web of beauty marks on his ribs.

“Oh yes, those. They look like a constellation, or so I’ve heard.”

“They remind me of something.”

“A constellation, I bet.” Anders smirked, not impressed with Hawke’s antics. The latter rolled his eyes and let go of the issue.

Anders didn’t think of anything when he found Hawke talking with the other companions at the Hanged Man later on. It probably had something to do with Templars, Hawke sometimes preferred not to talk about that subject with Anders. To protect him or to keep from another monologue, that remained a mystery. What he found odd were the looks from everyone and how they would stop talking when he installed himself, then pretended to talk about how everything was going well at the Bone Pit when Anders knew very well a dragon had killed everyone there.

A few days later found Anders tending to someone’s broken arm in his clinic. The young woman was taking care of her younger brother on her own, and it wasn’t the first time she was coming to visit Anders. He was worried for them but knew the people in Darktown preferred to keep to themselves and deal with problems on their own. She knew she could ask him for help, and there was that.

He was just closing for the day when someone knocked on the locked door after they attempted to open it. By knock, it was more like loud banging. Anders grumbled to himself, wondering if he’d get any sleep that night if patients continued to stroll in. There was no way he could refuse anyone however.

“Carver?” He raised his eyebrows at the sight of the Templar. He hadn’t seen him in months. He looked every part of the dashing warrior, his face had lost the last remains of baby fat. Anders was a tall man, but Carver was still taller and much larger, taking most of the door frame. He wasn’t wearing his Templar uniform, probably to stay under cover.

“You need to hide, Templars are coming for you,” Carver said as a greeting. Anders’ heart leapt in his throat, and he let Carver close the door behind him and lock it.

“How do you know?” He asked, in a daze as he followed Carver to the secret entrance leading to Hightown. His brother probably told him of its existence.

“As much as it surprises you, Templars are gossipers too. They talked about raiding an illegal clinic in Darktown, it wasn’t difficult to know who they were referring to.” Carver looked at him, and Anders only realized just now how blue they were. Perhaps because the Carver from before wouldn’t bear to look at anyone in the eyes. He hadn’t wanted anyone to see the pain he hid behind brash words and a short temper.

“Come on, we don’t have time to waste. I managed to come ahead of them, but I don’t know how much time we have- what are you doing?”

“I’m packing potions. I’m not letting them destroy them.” Anders ran to the shelves with his leather bag, trying to both be careful but fast at tossing everything inside.

Carver swore behind him, and then began helping him. Anders was closing the secret entrance behind them when he heard a crash in the clinic’s door. All his work to create himself a haven, undone.

 **Move, Anders.** Justice’s voice boomed in his head just as Carver nudged him forward, his hand firm and warm on his lower back. Anders cast a flame in his palm so they wouldn’t trip – or so Anders wouldn’t trip into Carver, that would’ve been very unfortunate.

“Why are you doing this, Carver?” Anders asked, his voice low. Behind him, Carver tensed for a second, his breath coming off short.

“Well. You’re my brother’s friend, I couldn’t hear this and not do anything,” his reply came after a moment of hesitation, with a shyness in his words that Anders found endearing. When he looked at him, Carver’s eyes were darting anywhere but at him. “Beside, you never made fun of me before. I was a brat, but you never said anything.”

“You were young and grieving.”

“And stupid.” Carver scrunched his nose at the memories and met his eyes. “Being a Templar is different. It means keeping people safe from harm.”

“Even when the harm comes from within?”

Carver grunted. “Not all Templars are bad, but becoming one sure removed some of the fantasies I had about the Order.”

They were approaching the end of the tunnel, and Anders had to ask. “Did you have any new from the others recently? From Hawke?”

“My brother and I exchange letters from time to time, but it’s not one of my priorities, and I haven’t heard from the others in a while. Why?”

Anders shrugged. “Nothing. It’s just… They’ve been acting weird ever since we went on the Wounded Coast and Hawke saw moles on my chest. Isabela believes in that soulmark horseshit going around-“

“Moles, on your chest?” Carver wondered aloud, then he was shoving the door open. “Come on.”

Anders followed him into the estate’s cellar, the wine stashed everywhere giving Anders the wish to take a bottle for himself. He sighed to himself and instead focused on Carver’s huge arms. That is, until they stumbled to the first floor and Carver turned back to him with a serious expression.

“These moles… can you show them to me?”

“Err, sorry?” Anders frowned, and Carver groaned in annoyance before he was removing his belt. Anders watched him with even more confusion, asking himself if he had wandered into one of his wet dreams by accident. It appeared they were even alone in the estate, or at least Oriana was off in another room and hadn’t heard their commotion.

Carver lifted his sleeveless tunic high enough to expose his ribs, and Anders’ heart stopped at the sight of the identical dark spots on his pale skin that he himself was bearing. He softly touched them, followed their path. It was the same constellation than his own, at the same place.

“How is this real?” He wondered out loud, and promptly removed his robes to show Carver his own.

“You can wield magic and still ask yourself how soulmarks can be real?” Carver asserted, but there was awe in his voice as his giant hand gently pressed against his skin. His touch was light, careful, and Anders grew warmer.

“You’re such a smartass.” Anders realized they were both shirtless and alone, staring intently at each other. His hand was still against his chest, and his thumb had started to follow the curve of his muscles there.

“What do we do now?” He idly asked, licking his lips.

“I don’t know,” Carver said, blue eyes intense, and then he was kissing him. Or maybe Anders kissed him first. He groaned against his mouth when his large arms embraced him and tugged him against his chest, and Anders hung on to his shoulders, then grasped his dark hair. His lips were soft and plump, felt so good against his own. He kept making those small moans, his lashes fluttering when Anders dared to open his eyes to reassure himself this was real.

Carver kissed him as if he’d been waiting for this all his life, and perhaps he had. Perhaps they both had.


End file.
